


Purifying Flame

by Trash_Planet (orphan_account)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Character Death, Danger Days Era, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:18:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Trash_Planet
Summary: "I'm so sorry, Gerard," she whispered, her voice breaking."Au where while touring in Europe in celebration of the band's newest album "Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys" Lindsey is killed in a plane crash leaving Gerard to raise his daughter and make sure his mental health doesn't go down the drain it is already circling.Triggering themes will play a major part in the story so if you are triggered by Cutting,starving yourself drug addiction, Alcohol abuse Nightmares, Night Terrors, Major character deaths please do not read thisI also had a fuckton of help from my friends Amira, Kellin, Kamile and Ronan so please give them the credit they deserveProbably won't be updated a lot so be warned





	1. Chapter 1

Frank hit the final chord, a drumstick whirled past my ear and into the crowd. I saw at least fifty hands reach for it before it fell into the sea of people. Another drumstick followed, along with three guitar picks that nearly hit me in the back of the head. Asshole.

The crowd was fucking delightful, they looked like they were having the nest life of their lives. My eyes squinted from the bright lights, momentarily blinding me but I didn't care. "Thank all of you so fucking much for being here!" I yelled into the microphone. "So long and goodnight!"We walked offstage, followed by some of the loudest cheering we'd ever heard. The moon peeked at us as we walked, its dim light making me grin widely. The first leg of our European tour was finally over, and I was definitely looking forward to the week we had before the second half of the tour. Frank, Mikey, and Ray packed their stuff up in record time, but of course, Frank hit me in the shin with his guitar yet again.  
"Ass hat," I muttered, whacking him with the sleeve of my leather jacket. He just smirked at me and winked, making me roll my eyes at him. We chatted excitedly while we packed up our other outfits, and of course, our treasured eyeliner. We were completely packed up by eleven, and when we were done, we all collapsed in a tired, sweaty pile of emo. We were used to waiting for the roadies to arrive and pack a van with our stuff, so we just sat there, deep in thought.

"Hey Gee, what do you call a fake noodle?" Ray asked after a moment of silence. He can be quite random.

"I don't know," I replied, clueless and kinda bored. 

"An impasta." He giggled like a little kid, and the rest of the band laughed hysterically, like it was the funniest thing that they'd ever heard. I rolled my eyes, but secretly found the terrible pun mildly amusing.  
My phone buzzed, interrupting my train of thought. Call me, it's urgent. My eyebrows shot upwards. Why would my mom send something like that? We barely even talk when I'm on tour. I frowned and pulled my hand out from under Frank's back, standing up as quickly as my sore, tired muscles would allow. All four of my band mates looked up at me curiously, and I offered a hasty explanation before dashing outside.

"My mom says I need to call her, I'll be back in a few minutes." I walked through the intricate network of backstage rooms, finding myself at the back exit. I ducked outside, standing where two cold brick walls met. I pulled up my speed dial, selecting her number. She picked up immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Gerard," Was the first thing she said, her voice breaking. Panic filled my entire being. What was she talking about? I can feel my heart thump wildly in my chest as I forced myself not to choke. I spoke frantically, desperately hoping everyone was okay. But at that point, I was preparing for the worse.

"What? What happened?" She sighed, hesitating. "Mom, just fucking tell me, please." I plead.

"Lindsey was on a plane to come see you. She left Bandit with us. There was a storm, and..." She paused and I can feel tears streaming on my cheeks. I can't speak. "L-lightning struck the plane down over Wales. No one survived..." She said, trailing off. Even though we had thousands of miles between us, I could almost hear her heart breaking with sympathy for me. I wonder if she heard mine break too. I'm not sure how anyone could miss a sound that deafening.

"I-I gotta go." I said. Before she could say anything, I shakily pressed the end call button. The simple phrase was all I could say before I collapsed. I stared at the ground in front of me, not really seeing anything. Why? Why her? ... and with her gone, what now? The realisation that she was gone made me stare at ground in horror, my vision becoming more and more blurry. I pressed my palms on the ground and let my nails scraped the ground. My thoughts quickly turned to Bandit, wondering how I could raise her without a mother. Another wave of shock and sadness assaulted my stomach. Bandit...   
"No..." I shut my eyes tightly, trying not to think, think, think. Trying to escape from my mind. Trying to rationalise this through and calm the fuck down. "No, no, no!" I muttered like it was the only word I knew. Touching the ground around me, I desperately tried to ground myself. My whole world had been turned upside down, and I felt sicker than I thought it was possible to ever be. I put my head between my knees and managed to breathe, even though I felt as if my lungs had been ripped out.

"NO NO NO!" I screamed, tears running down my face as I turn around and smash my hand into the brick wall over and over and over until I feel blood running down my bruised and cut knuckles. I collapse yet again, letting the tears run down my face. It finally started to truly sink in. I will never see the love of my life again. I won't ever get to talk to her again. Never hear her voice. Never see her smile. Never hear her sing our song. Never. Because the universe is a son of a bitch with a fucked-up sense of humor.  
These thoughts wrapped around my brain, almost like they were trying to suffocate my mind. I felt dizzy, so I squished myself into the corner like I wanted to disappear. And that that point in time, I did. I wanted nothing more than to vanish into oblivion, just so I wouldn't have to feel this pain any more. I began to think about how hard I would have to bang my head against the wall to kill myself, to end this suffering. I considered trying, and tried to plan it out. Maybe if I did, I'll get to see her again. Maybe if I did, I'd wake up and see her face again, see her sleeping next to me. Maybe if I did, things will finally be better. But I was pulled out of these thoughts when I heard someone approach me. Mikey? No, it was someone much smaller. The figure came into my peripheral vision—Frank.

"Gee, are you okay? What happened?" Frank spoke frantically. I tried to form the words, but crying had left me dehydrated, and all I managed to croak out were the words Lindsey and crash. Frank's eyebrows shot up in confusion. 

"What?" My mind was a blur, but when I opened my eyes again, I could very clearly see and feel Frank propping me up against the wall.

"Sh-she didn't survive, Frank." I gurgled. saying it out loud made it even more real, and I burst into tears again.

"I-I'm so sorry, Gee," Frank whispers, almost at a loss for words. The door opens, and Frank looked back.

"Come on, we gotta get on the bus!" Mikey calls. When we didn't reply, he looked over at us. Even in the dark, he sees our huddled figures, and the blood that was still dripping from my knuckles onto the pavement. "Gee? You okay?" He ran over, sitting right in front of me. Frank offered a hasty explanation, and I barely managed to tune the words out. I tried to focus but I can't breathe. Mikey quickly wraps me in a hug, and being held by my little brother finally stopped my tears. I melt into his arms and tried to regulate my breathing. I let Mikey pull me up, and he offered me one of the tissues that he would always have in his pocket. I wiped away my tears as best as I could, and he took the tissue, wrapping one arm around me and holding me tightly as we walked. As soon as we got on the bus, Ray and Bob knew something was wrong, but I just couldn't form the words to tell them what had happened. I still felt dizzy when I reached the couch, and laid on it, curling up into the corner of the couch that I always sat in. Frank noticed, and did the explaining for me. Ray's eyes softened with sympathy, and he offered some hasty words of encouragement before falling silent yet again. "I'm sorry, Gee..." Ray quickly hugged me. 

Frank crouched down and wipes my wet cheeks. "I've lost people before, and trust me, tomorrow is the real fight. But trust me, you're gonna get through this. I promise." That small bit of advice was oddly comforting, and I was able to pull myself together just enough to sit up. I moved as far away from people as I could while remaining in my spot on the couch. It was a subtle movement, but Bob picked up on it.

"Do you want us to leave you alone?" I nodded, and everyone got up to leave. I moved towards Frank, and they all understood. As soon as everyone left, Frank wrapped me in the tightest, most comforting hug possible, whispering "I'm so sorry" over and over until he realized what he was doing. We sat there for what seemed like hours, Frank never leaving my side. I couldn't help but feel guilty about soaking his clothes with tears and snot, and I tried to apologize, but he cut me off every time, saying that he didn't mind and that I should never apologize for needing him. Even after I stopped crying, we continued to sit there, not saying anything, just existing together.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up, I realized that I must have dozed off next to Frank with my head leaning slightly on his shoulder. How fucking embarrassing. He was still asleep, even though no one ever slept on the couch. At first it seemed like a completely normal morning. I yawned and sat properly, then it hit me. Lynz was dead. She was dead. Gone. I wanted to cry, but nothing came out. My eyes feel completely dry and it aches to blink. I closed my eyes and every breath was a struggle. Only one thought crossed my mind. Bandit.

 

"Frank," I whispered, and the guitarist stirred. I felt guilty for waking him up, but at this one point in time, I truly needed him. 

 

"Frank, please."

His body shifted slightly and he blinked blearily at me. "Yeah?" He whispered sleepily.

 

"Frank, I-I need to get Bandit from my parents' house. She's all alone. Frank, she needs me." I babbled. I wasn't sure why I was panicking but all I need was my baby, my Bandit.

 

"Okay, okay," Frank sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Calm down, okay? We're gonna get her. I promise."

 

"Okay," I sighed shakily. "Okay, yeah." I kept my voice low because everyone was asleep. Or so I thought. A knock on the door signalled the arrival of my brother.

 

"Hey guys, I made some eggs." He smiles slightly. "Hey, Gee, I dunno if you feel like eating but I think you should try.." He gestures towards the kitchenette.

"Thank you, Mikes but I'm not really hungry at the moment." I forced a smile.

"I understand," he replies as he turns to leave. "I'll be going, then."

"Gee." Frankie nudged me with his arm.

"Yeah, I'm here." I pulled my gaze away from the doorway where Mikey had stood moments ago.

"I'm going to go get some breakfast. You should at least try to drink some water, you sound really dehydrated," he said as he got up to leave. I pursed my lips and nodded, following him into the kitchenette where everyone else was talking.

"Hey," Frank greeted them, and I forced a weak smile. I sat down in Frank's usual spot, not saying anything. He handed me a glass of ice water, and I sipped it slowly, enjoying its soothing effect on my throat. The conversations dwindled away into silence, no one knowing what to say. Mikey looked at me sympathetically, and I couldn't control the quick wave of anger that washed over me. But, after a moment, I willed it into silence. I knew he truly cared, and was just confused.

"So...what are we gonna do now?" he asked tentatively, after staring at his eggs for at least a minute.

"I have to go get Bandit." My voice nearly broke, but I spoke with a surprising amount of confidence. Everyone looked at me, like they didn't expect me to say anything. But Frank understood.

"Definitely. I mean I'd do that..." he trailed off, not completely sure what he was saying. Ray and Bob finished their breakfast and left, leaving me alone with Frank and Mikey.

"There's a flight to Jersey in about 12 hours, does that work?" Mikey asked, looking at his phone. His willingness to help shocked me. Why would someone drop anything and leave to satisfy my whim? I silenced my racing thoughts and simply nodded. I suddenly felt sick, but I tried to act like I was okay. Somehow, they both noticed.

"You okay?" Mikey asked, his face suddenly transformed by concern.

"I just feel sick, I'll be fine," I managed to utter.

"Okay," Frank replied hesitantly. "Should we get ready?" he added, standing up and gathering his dirty dishes.

"Sure." I say quietly, bringing my now-empty water glass to the sink. Mikey walked off to his bunk, and I stood next to Frank as he washed his dishes. I handed him my glass and walked away. Ray and Bob were in the living area, watching TV and talking. I avoided them, heading towards my bunk and pulling my suitcase out from under Ray's bed. I put all my favorite clothes in there, all the while thinking about what I would say to Bandit. I still had no idea of how I would break the news to her, or what we would do after that. All I knew was that I had to be there for her, to make everything okay.

"Gee, your clothes look filthy. You should go change." I hadn't realized that Mikey was here, and his unexpected comment almost startled me. But I took his suggestion, ducking into the bathroom to change into a black hoodie and skinny jeans. By the time I return, Frank's there, packing up as well. We finish packing in silence, unsure of what to say. 

 

"You ready to go?" My brother's head peered round the door.

"Um, yeah," I grab my phone off of the my still made bed, I don't remember making it. To be honest, I don't remember falling asleep last night, either. To be honest, I'm still... shocked. I can't believe this is actually happening. That we're actually going to get Bandit. That Lynz is actually... dead. I let out a shuddering sigh, and pulled my jumper around me tighter. My blood feels thick and I will my legs to move as I follow Mikey out of the door. Frank right beside me.

The drive to the airport was agonizingly tedious. I sat near the window, fidgeting and hoping to avoid any conversation. I spent all day staring at the passing cars and occasional fields. Mikey sat beside me and Frank across. When I put my headphones in and pretend to ignore their saddened eyes. I know they want to help me but I do not need their pity. I sigh, I'm being hard on them. Lindsey was their friend too and I'm just thinking of myself. I drag myself out of my thoughts of Lindsey and focus them on the road. I look at the car at the side of us and wonder what their life is like. Did they just lose someone? Maybe they are bringing home a new life. 

We pull up at the car park and I say goodbye to Ray, the driver and Bob. As I walk into the airport through the massive front doors. I swallow the lump in my throat and walk over to where Mikey is looking at the times of the earliest flight back to NJ. I sit beside Frank and watch him walk over to us. He is wearing black skinny jeans like me, a smashing pumpkins T-shirt and a grey beanie that goes well with his brown hair.

"The next flight should be here in around four hours." He announced, holding his funny-looking glasses between his teeth.

I stared at him before answering. "Right, yeah." I bite my lip. Suddenly my stomach rumbles and I curse inwardly.

"Hey, I'm going to go get a coffee," Mikey says, standing up. "Anyone want anything?" Mikey looks down at me and Frank.

"I'll have a coffee, Mikes." Frank hands him a couple of dollars. 

"Gee, do you want anything?" He pockets Frankie's money and I politely refuse. We wait for about five minutes for my brother to come back with two cups of coffee, a bacon sandwich, and a bottle of water.

"Gerard, I know you said you didn't want anything but you haven't eaten since yesterday morning." Mikey looks at me with a stern but concerned look and I know that he won't take 'no' for an answer. Instead of protesting, I thank him and take the sandwich by the napkin, nibbling at it. I zone out for a while only to be brought out of my thoughts with a feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I was going to be sick. I dash for the toilets and through up the contents of my lunch into the bowl. I stand up from my kneeling position and flush the toilet. I stare at myself in the mirror as I rinse my mouth. I look like shit, I notice

"Hey Gerard, you okay?" my brother opens the door and walks in."Yeah I think it's just nerves, y'know." I fake a smile and follow him back to where the guitarist who is on his phone texting. I tried not to look at him but I can feel him watching me. He looks up from his phone and hands me the bottle of unopened water. "You alright, " Frank questions.  
"Yeah, I think it's nerves," I repeat and he seems to get it because he just nods. I smile at that small action and he seems to catch it because he smile back at me. I sip from the clear plastic bottle and focus on keeping it down. I need to stay hydrated even if I don't eat. After a while I pull out my phone and call my mom to let her know that I'm coming over. She picks up right after the second ring.

"Mom," I whispered weakly. I cleared my throat. "Mom, hey." 

"Oh, Gerard, Honey" Hearing her voice break like that made me flinch. "Are you alright?"

"Mom, please don't start crying" I plead

"I'm so sorry Gerard for everything." She sounds so small and a tear escapes from my eye. I quickly wipe it away and focus on keeping my voice even.  
"Mom me, Mikey and Frank are coming to back to Jersey for a few weeks okay?.. I need to see Bandit." 

I whisper brokenly and I feel my brother's arm wrap around my shoulders.

"Yeah of course dear" We speak for a while about tour and how the guys are doing until she requests to speak to my brother 

"Can I please speak to Mikey Gee?" I pass the phone to the Mikey and walk back to Frank. I watch as Mikey walks around a small area of the building explaining things to my mom. Soon he brings the phone back. Time passes by achingly slowly until my attention is pulled to one of the TVs that are scattered around the building. Some people who I assume are reporters are in a helicopter flying over some expanse of water talking. In a red banner at the bottom it says:

"Breaking news Plane crash over Wales. No survivors" I feel my face go white and I pull the hood of my hoodie up over my head so nobody sees me cry. Frank hands me some headphones and I block out the haunting Television With Guitar music. I rest my head on my brother's shoulder as he wraps his right arm around me. It is comforting but it doesn't stop the seemingly endless stream of silent tears.


	3. Chapter 3

Holding my breath I hesitantly knock on the dark oak door to my Parents home. As the sound of the locks click as a warning they are opening. Instead of my Mom or Dad's ageing face greeting me back home I look down to my little girl who squealed in delight and is now hugging my middle. I pat her head lovingly.

"Hey Bandit" I pick her up and rest her on my hip as my mom walks through the hall to the door way.

"Oh Gerard" She smiles sadly and I put my baby girl down and envelope her in a tight embrace. She quickly says hello to my brother and Frank and ushers us inside. I go inside and pick up my Daughter and go to her room where I kneel down, wrap her into a hug and tell her the heartbreaking news.

"Mommy died in a crash, sweetheart" I fear my voice me crack. I can see from my position that her cheeks are wet with tears. "She's not gonna come home baby" We sit a long while in each other's arms. Tears are pooling down my cheeks but I am long past caring. Slowly I get up with her hand in mine and bring some paper and pencils down stairs to where the rest of my family and Frank is waiting.I slouch into a chair and sit bandit in my lap while she draws.

"Lindsey's family is arranging the funeral" My attention turns from my thoughts of my wife to the person who spoke last- My dad. I nod and take it in. His face seems to have grown older and tireder since I last saw him. He has wrinkles I never noticed before.

"The funeral is in three days" My Mom takes my hands in hers from across the table. Her thumb is rubbing my fingers in a rhythmic pattern Bandit turns her body in my lap and shows me a piece of paper with colours and scribbles littering it. I hold her lower back so she doesn't slide off of my knees. The picture is of Me, Lindsey and herself. There are flowers in front of a Garden and a house behind us. I stare at it with my vision blurs with un-fallen tears. I will them away.

"I love it B" I say relieved at how my voice doesn't break. I see Mikey lean over my shoulder and hums in approvement and comments on the likeness of the stick figures. After a while she beings to get restless and Frank offers to take her to the park to give me and my family some alone time. I feel a slight smile dance on my lips as she squeals in delight at the idea. It's not often she goes to the park but when she does she loves to feed the ducks and geese that gather in the river next to it. 

"We won't be long" Frank smile at me and stretches out his hand for Bandit to hold and I watch them cross the street together. After one last look I close the door and make my way to the kitchen where my family and I talk about the funeral and what to do with Bandit afterwards. They agree to keep her just until I finish touring and I am thankful for that. I don't want to arouse suspicion and I definitely do not want the media or the fans to hear about this just yet. It's too soon.


	4. Chapter 4

I sit on the freshly mowed grass beside the tombstone that reads "Lindsey Ann Way. Daughter Mother Artist May 22, 1976 - June 7 2010". She is buried under a apple blossom tree. I smile at that, Blossom was her favourite. I stopped crying ages ago but instead I have become numb. Bandit is sat in my lap and picking at the weeds that grow with the grass. She is wearing a small dress that she picked out and a hair clip that has batman on that she picked out herself. I feel the first few drops of rain from the dark clouds overhead. I smile at how alike this is to a horror movie or a nightmare. Even the weather acts the same. Or maybe that's just because of where I live. Who knows? The rain drops get fatter and faster so I take Bandit back to my mum's for the after funeral gathering. Lindsey's family greets me and tells my daughter how brave she is and how hard it must be on the both of us. All I want right now is to be alone but I thank them kindly. Soon enough most of the adults are drunk and some of them are crying or chattering of her life to each other. Lindsey's family is nice. But they are not the company I desire now. I retreat upstairs to the spare bedroom with my little girl. She started falling asleep ages ago and so I take her to the room she will be sleeping in for the next month or so. After tucking her in I go to the bathroom and take a good look at my face. I notice how pale and thin I've gotten. I splash water on my face and leave the small room. After hours of listening to the hum of people down stairs and wrestling with my own thoughts I Lie down next to Bandit I close my eyes and slowly drift off

When I forcefully wake up from my fitful sleep my heart is banging in my chest and Ive got tears pouring down my cheeks. I focus on getting my breathing under control and I take a look at my surroundings. I'm in my parents house. My daughter is still sleeping next to me. And it is 3:42 in the morning. Everyone's in bed. I've slept for nearly eleven hours which is more than I've gotten for what seems like months. Bits and pieces of my dreams come back to me and I curl around Banit protectively. Hiding my face in her neck. Trying to assure myself that she's alive.

I've struggled with nightmares for years, though admittedly they have gotten worse within the last 4 days. The guys know about them. It's hard to hide that from people who sleep just feet away from you. I used to wake up having panic attacks but that hasn't been for years thankfully 

"Must be the grief" I muse 


	5. Chapter 5

Yet again I wake up breathing painfully hard. I scramble into a sitting position and hold my knees against my chest. I am not in that hellish nightmare, I am sat in my bunk in the tour bus surrounded by my friends. People who love and care about me. After I get my breath I take the new drawing book I was given and make my way to the bus living room. I turn on a light and try and distract myself from the horrors that hide behind my eyelids. I pull out a pen and use the dark ink to draw cartoons and other weird and wacky creations until my heart stops hammering in my chest. I pick up a lighter from the counter as well as a few cigarettes and slowly make my way outside I close the door and walk into the parking lot. I turn on the lighter and just watch the flame dance around. I put it to my skin and hiss as it comes into contact with the side of my right hand. I smoke the cigarettes quietly as I watch the sun rise. When I come back in I see that my brother is making a coffee. I watch him stir in the water absent mindedly.

"Sorry did I wake you?" I close the door behind me 

"No, I saw you weren't in your bunk and I was kinda worried" He gives me a cup of the hot liquid. I shouldn't worry my brother. 

"I just went for a smoke" I take the lighter out of my pocket and put it back on the kitchen counter.

"Y'know those nightmares aren't real right? They're just bad dreams Gee, no point hurting yourself over your subconscious" he takes a sip of coffee and I put my right hand back into my pocket away from his prying eyes.I feel like he can read my mind sometimes. When we were little we used to finish each other's sentences. Say things in unison. Once we even had the same dream. Now I can't help but think his eyes are burning into my brain. Reading all my secrets.

"I know what they are Mikey... Thanks for caring about me though" I pull a chair up across from him and watch as people soon get up and go about their business. Ray has stashed himself away in back of the bus. Frank is probably playing on one of the game consoles and Bob is still in bed. I go back to my bunk and pick up the leather bound sketchbook that Ray gave me a few days ago. My thoughts drift off to my relapse and I shake them away hurriedly. Plonking myself down next to Frank I pull out my phone and have a quick scroll through twitter. I find a few comments about my mysterious absence from the social platform and I send a quick tweet out saying that I was sorry for my leave and how I've just been busy with the tour. Seconds after the post I get replies telling me how much I have impacted their lives. A small smile plays on my lips. 

I get up from where I am sat in the small bus living room, coffee table in front of me with papers littered all over it. I'm trying to draw a new character but nothing seems right. Everything is quiet, the other guys were all asleep so I was left in the silence. Or I would be if my brain stopped it's quiet but noticeable humming. I've not had much proper sleep since before I heard about her death. I walk over to the small white fridge and open the door to peer in. I shut the door harder than I intended when I realise that there's no alcohol left. Alcohol quietens the hum which I am grateful for. The bottle I did have was taken by My brother and poured down the sink after we both agreed that that was what was best for everyone. I daren't go and buy another one. 

"It's not fair" I whisper to myself as I sit back down and look at all my failed drawing attempts and scrunch them all up and through them into the trash. I walk back to my bunk as silently as I could and pull the covers over my head and hold back a sob with the palm of my hand. Silently Frank drops his headphones onto my bunk from above along with his Ipod. I put them in and fall asleep to Guitar music. I make a mental note to thank him for it when he's awake. The blanket I have is a nice white one with a few brown coffee stains on as a result of me drinking in bed with my comics trying to wind down after shows. Now that I think of it, coffee isn't the best thing to drink when your mind is still hyperactive and adrenaline is still running through your veins. All around me people sleep and it gives me a sort of comforting feeling. I listen to the rhythm of the guitars and turn over onto my side facing the wall as I doze off.


	6. Chapter 6

"Promise me you'll be good for Granddad and Grandma while I'm gone. I won't be long, I just need to go and finish this okay munchkin? She nods and I give her one last hug before I stand up to leave. I wish I could stay here with her but I need to finish this tour. I need to process the last few days. 

The hotel is alright. Nothing too fancy and I go straight to my room. Setting my bag in the corner I pull some cigarettes out of my pocket and make my way outside. As I walk through the corridor and onto the elevator I take out my phone and google any bars nearby that I could sneak to without the rest of the guys knowing I'm there. I've been sober for years but I'm past the point of caring. All I want now is to crawl inside a bottle and never come out. 

The small tarmacked area is quiet and hidden by trees of some kind. I pocket my phone and take a drag from my cigarette. By the time I've finished Ive smoked three and the sun is going down. I make my way back to my hotel room but not after I walk to the nearest liquor store and buy a bottle of whiskey to hide up in my room. If my brother or anyone else knew about it they'd just try and talk me out of drinking it and I don't want that. I want to drink so much I forget about everything. It's like a itch I desperately need to scratch. When I get back the first thing I do is text everyone that I'm not going out with them tonight. I say that I feel a little drained and so I'm going to stay in my room and watch shitty t.v shows. Leaving my phone on the table I walk to the bathroom and lock myself in. It's just me and the drink. My mind is screaming at me to stop. Not to throw away everything I've worked so hard to beat but by the time the clear liquid passes my lips it all shuts off. 

Hours later I'm staring at myself in the small bathroom mirror and anger over comes me. I smash it with my fist and pick up the first shard I can find. I put it to my skin and smile as I watch the blood circle the drain. I get drunk on it. I carve all the words that have been circling my mind into my thighs and upper arms. Pathetic. Useless. Fat. I put the shard down and I pull on my sweatpants and a hoodie. Satisfied at my self destruction I get up and go to the door. It's not that late, the bars will still be open. I'm not really drunk. Maybe a little tipsey, all those years of drowning my sorrows has given me quite the tolerance. And I didn't drink all of the bottle, just a bit. I've hidden the rest in my suitcase.

I walk into a bar and quickly sit on a black leather stool. People bustle around me but I soon get too drunk to care. Downing shot after shot of cheap liquor until my throat feels raw but I don't care. I think a few girls tried to chat me up but I ignored them. They were too young for me anyway. I order another round of vodka let it burn its way down my throat. I don't know how many I've had but it is definitely more than I should have. My head's swimming and I can faintly hear somebody talking. I hope it isn't another chick wanting my number.

"Gerard" a hand is waved in front of my face. Mikey?

"Gee you're coming back to the bus" He says as he puts some money on the counter. Two large hands grip me from under my arms and I start walking towards the exit into the pouring,freezing rain. The streets are dark, the only light coming from the odd street lap. I feel my stomach doing weird things and I would have giggled if I didn't throw up all over myself. Nice one Gerard! the journey to the hotel is a blur and the next thing I know is that I am being stripped down and put in the shower. I have my boxes on thankfully. I Think Frank and Mikey are talking in the doorway but I can't hear what they're saying. The water wakes me up a bit out of my foggy cloud. Why is my brother crying? I let my head roll back against the bathtub. Ugh I have such a bad headache

"C'mon Gee" The water is shut off and I am helped out of the tub. I manage to put new boxes on by myself but i trip and fall trying to put on my Pyjama bottoms and my brother helps the rest of the way. Soon I am snuggled up in my own bed and pretty soon I'm wrapped in a sleep. For the first time in weeks I sleep without haunting dreams  
I wake up with a headache that makes me think my Head would explode.

"Jesus fucking Christ" I groan and quickly shut my eyes against the light of the day. I'm in my bee with pj's on which is weird. When did I get dressed? Bits and snippets of last night enter my mind. Bar, Bathtub, Bed. Mikey crying? I force my eyes open and see that someone has left me with two pain relievers and a bottle of water

"why only two?" I mumble but I take them anyway

"m-Mikey?" I croak and wince at how loud my voice is. No reply. Begrudgingly I get up from my bed and go to the kitchen where I am greeted by my brother and the guitarist and their saddened eyes. They share a look and Frank's face flutters with anger but it is gone as quickly as it appears

"I need more painkillers" I rest my head on the counter begging for the thumping to stop.

"Gerard we need to talk" I lift my head from the counter top and look at him as he comes closer to me and hugs me tightly.

"'Bout what?" Ugh my head feels like it weighs a thousand tonnes. And then it felt as if my blood had been replaced my ice water. I remember being dragged out of a bar. I remember throwing up on myself. I remember being showered. I Remember Mikey crying as he helps Ray sweep all the broken glass away from the floor of the bathroom. I remember it all. Oh shit! they know. They know about the cuts. They know about the cruel words I have carved into my body so I never forget them. They know about it all

"Mikey" I croak but I'm lost for words. He just holds me closer.

"Why?" Frank is leaning on the counter arms folded over his chest. He knows the answer. He must. His hoodie is too big for him and I briefly wonder if it's mine. I look up to my brother who is crying and holding me tight and I remember the day I found out about Lindsey.

"I don't know" I lie. Wow, I lie to my brother and best friend now? Fucking great.

"Gerard please don't lie to us" His voice breaks and I feel like the shittiest person on the planet

"I'd rather feel pain than feeling nothing at all" I mutter. Wow that sounded so cliche. He hugs me tighter and I wish I could make it okay again. Soon he lets me go and I go back to my bed and try not to keep crying. Crying makes my head hurt but still silent tears roll down my cheek. I try and sleep but I can't get the fact that I've made my brother cry out of my head. I'm a monster.

"Gerard?" Ray comes in after a few hours and brings me a glass of water and sits in the bunk across from me

"Thank you Ray" I take the water and sip it in silence. The water makes my still pounding head hurt but not very much. The Guitarist breaks the silence first.

"Oh by the way" He reaches into his jacket pocket.

"We got you something" He passes me a black leather book filled with clean pages in. I flick through the book and look up at him smiling

"Thanks Ray"

"No problem buddy" He gets up and squeezes my shoulder as he leaves me alone with the book. I put it under my pillow and lie back down. Thinking about how much I've lost in the last few weeks


	7. Chapter 7

"Gerard you need to tell me whenever you feel like you might relapse okay?" Frank's voice echoed around my head as I scrolled through my twitter. Through hundreds of tweets saying cruel things. I was accustom to hate but not in this amount. I had announced that we were cutting the tour short and a few individuals thought they should voice their hatred for the plan. I know that if they knew what was going on they'd understand. I haven't told anyone outside of the band my my family yet. The last thing I need right now is for the press to hound me and ask all these questions I didn't know the answers to. Frank's voice was silenced by the hateful tweets. Maybe I was as worthless as these people think I am- No, know I am. I lie down in my bunk and try and sleep but to no avail. I sit back up and pull out my last razor. The hate filled tweets circle my mind and I reach for where my cuts have healed into scars. Frank was right, the bio oil works and I can tell that their fading more and more everyday. I logout of twitter and look at my home screen. It's a picture of me wife and I with Bandit sat on top of a hill. I don't remember the exact time it was taken but by the look of Bandit it was a few years ago. I smile at the phone but I'm pulled out of my thoughts when someone walks into the bunk room.

"Gee?" Frank smiles at me but his brow furrows as he looks closer at my eyes and the hand that is gripping the razor blade. 

"Hey" I meet my puffy red eyes with his and I wipe my tears with the back of my hand

"Where did you get that" He points at the blade as he sits next to me in my bunk. 

"It doesn't matter, I haven't used it" I say truthfully as I give it to him.

"Why are you crying? He pocketed the object and I sigh 

"It doesn't matter it's a fucking stupid reason" I look at my shoes.

"It does matter, it's hurting you and I don't want it to be" He sounds sincere so I show him my phone and watch as he reads it. He doesn't comment on the hate but he blocks every single hate filled tweet and their author.

"Thank you Frank" He puts his left arm around me and I lean my head onto his shoulder exhausted from crying. After a long moment of practising the next few sentences I sit up and take my head away from its resting place on my best friend's shoulder. "I haven't told anybody yet about the crash. I think that I should start thinking about doing that" He sits for a while thinking about what I just said. His face is contorted and it is like I can see the cogs turning in his brain. 

"If that's what you want to do than I think you should talk with Lindsey's family about it." He replies. 

"Yeah I think that would be best" 

"Oh by the way the boys are gonna go out for take away so if you want something you should go and tell them" He gets up expecting me to follow him over to where the rest of the boys are arguing over which meal is better. I can faintly hear them from where I am sitting but I pay no attention to the banter going off outside. I open my mouth but I catch a glimpse of my bare arms and I quickly tell him that I don't feel well and that I probably would rather go to sleep. He gives me a wary look but decides not to say anything. After Frank is gone I pull out the notebook Ray had given me and doodled and wrote down some thoughts. _It's a diary _I think to myself and push that away. I wasn't a 7 year old girl. I don't have diaries__


End file.
